


A Row in the Lake

by cinnybanana



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fighting, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:12:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3430727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnybanana/pseuds/cinnybanana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George was never one to get into fights without his brother, but he was always open to trying new things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Row in the Lake

**Author's Note:**

> Note that I do not own the Harry Potter series, if I did Fred would still be alive. In any case I hope you enjoy this little story and have a nice day :)

George didn't exactly know how he had gotten into a fight. It had been a normal enough day, he had attended a majority of his classes with his brother and their friends, admittedly skipping more than one of the lectures, and after some mischief his twin had managed to land himself in detention. George had no idea how he himself had gotten away with the prank while his brother had not been as lucky. Fred had laughed the ordeal off however, and with a smack on the shoulder he had left George alone for the afternoon. 

He had wandered the halls, not quite finding the Gryffindor common room as entertaining without his brother, despite Lee’s efforts, and had instead elected on getting some fresh air. It had been awhile since he had been down to visit the giant squid, and as he made his way out into the cold November air he wondered if maybe he should’ve brought a snack for his giant friend.

The sun was setting against the horizon, the sky slowly darkening as clouds swelled, a snow storm brewing above the school. He approached the black lake, it’s surface positively inky against the murky sky, when he noticed that he wasn't the only who had decided to visit the lake that afternoon.

George’s approach slowed as he made his way over to the edge of the lake. There was a small group of what seemed to be a couple of sixth and seventh year Slytherin and Ravenclaw’s. George didn't exactly recognise the teens, not being in either of the houses and just being a fifth year himself, but as he watched as they chucked objects into lake and laughed loudly as they did, he got the distinct impression that they were the sort of crowd that he tended to avoid. The closer he approached the clearer he could make out their conversation.

“I told you that there wasn't anything in there!” Chortled a rather porky looking Ravenclaw and the others laughed. Another boy, a Slytherin, chuckled as he picked up what seemed to be an empty butterbeer container and effectively chucked it into the lake.

“Of course not, everyone knows that Dumbledore is full of shit.” He replied and the others nodded their heads in agreement. “Like there are actually Grindylows in this lake, don't even get me started on the giant squid.” He snorted and his three friends laughed out loud as if he had said a hilarious joke. George approached, a frown etched onto his face. 

George kept quiet, Fred had always been the rash one after all, and he wasn't about to start something when he was by himself. He settled himself down by the edge of the water, a safe distance away from the rowdy older teens. However, as much as George wanted to just keep to himself and let his mind wander, he found himself feeling peeved as the older teens continued to chuck what seemed to be trash into the water, laughing as they did. He found his temper beginning to build. 

George had never considered himself an environmentalist, never really thinking much about the state of nature around him, but as the group continued to toss litter into the lake, the occasional jest flying from their mouths as if trying to tempt the creatures that inhabited the lake, George felt like he was about to snap. He considered the giant squid his friend after all, and he sure as hell didn't approve of these twats trashing his friends home. With another piece of trash thrown into the lake, he snapped.

“Hey!” He called and the group paused in their game, looking over to him as if they had not even realized he was there. “Cut that out, ya bloody gits.” The insult left his mouth before he could stop it. The group exchanged looks and the Slytherin who had made his position clear about the creatures in the lake grinned slyly as he directed his attention over to George, who had stood up from his spot on the ground. 

“Oi, why don't you mind your own business kid?” Kid? George thought as the teens snickered. He was only a year younger than the lot of them, two tops! George glared, his fist clenched.

“You shouldn’t be tossing your trash into the lake, what did your rooms run out of space?” George sneered and the Slytherin boy glared and started to make his way over to where George was standing, his friends following.

“You’ve got an awfully big mouth for someone who is all by himself.” The teen sneered back, his face turning ugly, which George thought was pretty impressive since he had been ugly before George had insulted him. The Slytherin boy stood in front of him, his friends putting themselves around the pair and effectively trapping in the ginger. George stood his ground; however, looking defiantly at the barely older boy. The boy looked him up and down, his eyes lingering on his red hair and freckles, and his lip curled. “A Weasley, huh? I don't see why you're bothered by this, all this trash should be making you feel right at home.” The others laughed loudly and George could feel the back of his neck and ears flush crimson. He hated how his family's reputation was always one that came easily with insults and he wasn't about to just stand there and let someone disgrace his family in front of him.

“You know,” George said, an airiness to his voice, “they say that kids who feel the need to push others around do so because of their own insecurities. So what’s the matter with you? Did daddy not love you enough? Uncle Ben love you a little too much?” George asked, and the Slytherin boy narrowed his eyes. He shoved roughly at Georges shoulder, causing him to stumble slightly.

“You should show some more respect to your superiors.” He growled out and George found himself shoving the boy back in retaliation.

“You shouldn’t talk through your arse.” And the fight had started. 

The Slytherin had lunged at George, fist flying hard and effectively catching George square in the nose. George stumbled from the blow, his bearings temporarily lost, and he suddenly found himself on the ground with the Slytherin on top of him. The other teens cheered their friend on as he assaulted George, and George did his best to retaliate.

He managed to shove the older boy off of him, years of being a beater paying off, and managed to get in a few good punches himself. 

The two wrestled on the ground, both throwing curses as they attacked each other, and George did his best to do as much damage as he could. George managed to get a grip on the teen, getting his arms around the teens neck in a sort of headlock when a sudden elbow to the stomach made his breath leave him. He lost his hold on the Slytherin, being knocked easily to the side, and the teen rounded on him, his eyes flashing dangerously as he grabbed onto the front of George’s robes and shoved. 

George yelled out as he was suddenly being pushed into the water of the lake, his head and torso suddenly being submerged in the icy black water. Bubbles escaped his mouth as the Slytherin boy held him down, but the shock of the cold water had prevented him from stopping the Slytherin from once again getting on top of him. The Slytherin held him down firmly as George tried hard to shove him off. He had not had time to recover his breath before being knocked into the water and at this rate he was going to drown before he could get the chance. He swung an arm out, trying desperately to land a hit so that he could resurface, but his strength was leaving him and although he had managed to land the hit it barely did a thing. His lungs were beginning to burn and he tried desperately to pry the hands entangled in his robes loose. Just when he thought he wasn't going to make it, water beginning to creep its way into his mouth and throat, the weight had suddenly disappeared from on top of him and he was now finally able to sit up.

George sputtered as he broke the waters surface, coughing violently as he expelled the water from his lungs and took in the much needed air. He gasped loudly as he looked around and his eyes landed on the Slytherin boy who was looking moodily up at Filch, his friends gone.

“Troublemakers.” Filch hissed, eyeing both of the teens and the trash that had floated up to the waters surface. “Fighting and littering on school grounds.” He glared at the two of them, his gaze lingering on George. He bent down, grabbing fistfuls of each of their robes, and roughly pulled them to their feet. George stumbled as he was being pulled along up the hill, shivering violently as the night breeze blew over his half soaked form.

“He started it!” The Slytherin boy cried and George shook his head.

“He started it! He was throwing trash into the lake along with his friends!” George retorted, but Flich wasn't having any of it. 

“Shut up!” His growled and he pulled the teens roughly along with him, and as they made their way into the castle and down the halls George realized where they were being taken.

Approaching the all too familiar room, George hoped he wouldn’t be in too much trouble.

Fred had been terribly bored in detention, McGonagall had not given him anything to do except to sit still and do so quietly, and he found himself entertaining himself by balancing his quill on his upper lip. He had not known how much time had passed since the start of his detention, but when the door to the room suddenly opened with a bang he looked behind him to see what the sudden intrusion was about. What he had not expected to see was his twin and another boy being dragged in by a disgruntled looking Filch. 

George looked drenched from his waist up, his red hair dark again his wet and pale skin. He reminded Fred of a drowned rat and as they made their way towards the front of the class he found himself standing from his seat. There was dark bruise in the middle of Georges face, and blood was dripping from his suspiciously crooked nose. The other kid looked banged up also, but it was clear to Fred that his twin had received the worse of whatever had happened.  
McGonagall stood from behind her desk, eyes growing wide from behind her glasses as she watched the approaching group. 

“What is the meaning of this, Mr. Filch?” McGonagall asked, and Fred kept his eyes on his twin as he waited for a response. Filch sneered as he brought the two boys forward, his grip firm on their robes.

“Found these two fighting down by the lake, Professor.” Filch explained, and he pushed the Slytherin boy forward. “This one was in the process of drowning Weasley here when I found them.” Fred felt his hands tighten into fist and had to restrain himself from going forward and punching the bloke in his face. McGonagall seemed just as angry at the news; however, and glared harshly at the two boys.

“Fighting on school grounds? Drowning? Honestly boys, you’re getting closer and closer to being of age and you’re still acting like children.” She chastised, and the Slytherin boy fumed.

“He started it! If he didn't want to fight then he should’ve kept his filthy nose out of my business!” The Slytherin boy spat and Fred found himself stepping forward, temper flaring. 

“I don't care what happened, nobody hits my brother and gets away with it.” Fred growled out, and everyone looked at him now as if they hadn't realized he was there. The Slytherin boy looked at him in disgust. 

“Oh god, there’s two of you?” He turned to look at George, who was staring at Fred. “Let me guess, you’re the stupid one?” Fred moved forward, ready to knock the smart right of his mouth when McGonagall stepped forward.

“That is quite enough!” She shouted and Fred stopped in his tracks, but he continued to glare at the Slytherin. He would get him back, oh was he going to get him back. “I don't care who started what, fighting is inexcusable and it will not go unpunished. Fifteen points from BOTH of your houses and I expect to see the both of you in my room for detention for the next month, have I made myself clear?” The two grumbled and Filch scowled, clearly thinking that the two were getting off too easily. She turned her glare to Fred and he stared back steadily. “Mr. Weasley if you would so kindly escort your brother to the hospital wing, I expect the both of you to head back to your dorms straight afterward.” Fred nodded and moved towards George, who was shrugging out of Filch's grip. “And you Mr. Malcolm, I expect you to head straight to your dormitory and to stay there for the remainder of the night. Dismissed.” She stated and that was the end of that. Filch left, muttering something about whipping under his breath, and Fred wrapped an arm around his brothers shoulders and guided him out of the room and into the hall. 

George grimaced as his brother guided him towards the hospital wing. The adrenaline from the fight had long since worn off and the pain in his face was making itself known more and more. He gingerly touched his nose and immediately hissed at the pain caused from the light touch. Fred gave him a side glance, frowning deeply as he looked at his brother.

“Are you alright?” Worry was clear in his voice, but George could just faintly pick up the underlying rage. He nodded, but he couldn't quite remove the scowl from his face.

“Yeah, but I think that bastard broke my nose.” He stated and Fred's hand tightened on his shoulder. 

“We’ll get him back.” Fred sneered, a sudden darkness in his voice. “He’s going to regret ever laying a hand on you.” George nodded, believing full heartedly that Fred probably had a whole list of pranks he was going to unleash on the older boy listed in his mind already, and grinned at the thought. Fred suddenly stopped and when George looked to see what the hold up was, he was taking off his robes.

“What are you doing?” George asked, and it wasn't until Fred had wrapped the heavy fabric over George’s shoulders did he realize that he was still trembling from the cold. 

They continued to walk forward, a silence falling between the two, and George couldn't help but feel as though it was an awkward one. Fred walked steadily beside him, the frown on his face deepening with each passing second, and when the grip on his shoulder tightened he felt the need to speak.

“Are you alright?” George asked and Fred scowled at question.

“You’re asking me if I’m alright? Bloody hell George, have you looked in the mirror lately?” Fred kept his glare forward, and George felt his jaw drop as he took in his twins expression.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked.

“No.” Fred snapped back and George looked at him in disbelief.

“You are! What are you doing being mad at me for, it’s not like I planned on getting into a fight today!” George demanded and Fred’s jaw clenched.

“Didn't stop you from getting into a row now, did it?” Fred retorted, and George couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

“Well I had to bloody well do something, wasn't about to just stand there and let the git hit me.” Fred’s eyes narrowed, but he didn't respond. However, George wasn't about to let this go. “What’s your problem?” Fred finally turned his gaze to George.

“My problem is that when I’m in detention thinking all is right with the world, you’re out there getting into school yard scraps. What the hell were you thinking?” They had stopped walking again, the air between them becoming tense. Fred was glaring at his twin now, hands shaking from anger, and George was starting to think he was going to get into another fight.

“It’s not like I go out looking for fights.” George defended himself, arms crossing in front of his chest as he shivered again. 

“Well you could have fooled me. What were you even doing down by the lake?” George shrugged his shoulders.

“Wanted the fresh air.” Fred scowled again.

“I’m sure there was a lot of that under the water.” George shivered again, his patience gone. He began to walk forward.

“You know what? I’ll just go to the hospital wing by myself, I’ll see you back at the dormitory.” He was a few feet away when the sound of footsteps approached and Fred was at his side again. 

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.” Fred apologized and George kept quiet, waiting for him to continue. “I’m just upset that you got into a fight without me, and got hurt.” George scoffed.

“As if you would’ve been much help.” He jested and the air between them seemed to lighten, the features on Fred's face relaxing slightly.

“Please, I think we both know that I’m a champ when it comes to fighting. Now you on the other hand,” He made a sound as if he had seen a painful injury, “you couldn't wrestle a Pygmy Puff and come out without a scratch.” George rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.

They made it to the hospital wing rather quickly after that, and after some explanation to Madam Pomfrey she had George sit on a nearby chair as she went to retrieve a potion. 

The potion was warm as it slid down his throat and George shuddered as his body suddenly began to heat up. He shuddered again in relief. Fred stood to his side as Madam Pomfrey observed his nose and when she lifted her hand to touch the bridge of his nose he immediately pulled his face back, a hiss escaping his lips. Madam Pomfrey sighed as she straightened herself up.

“Well your nose is definitely broken, but don't worry. It’s an easy fix.” She took out her wand and pointed it at his face. “Now then, on the count of three.”

“One.” George tensed. “Two.” Fred gripped his shoulder. “Three.” With the flick of her wand Georges nose snapped back into place. A renewed stream of blood poured out of nose and it felt as if he had been punched again. He immediately brought his hands up to hold his nose, eyes watering as he scrunched them closed. Curses rushed through his mind and caught in his throat, and instead released a low groan of pain. Fred squeezed his shoulder as if trying to comfort him and Madam Pomfrey was pushing a rag under his nose. “Keep that placed against your nose until the bleeding stops. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared again and Fred took her place in front of George, leaning forward to look at his face. 

“Smarts, huh?” George opened his eyes and glared half-heartedly. 

“No, it feels like a thousand puppies simultaneously licking my face.” George replied sarcastically, and Fred grinned.

“Well it can't be too bad if you’re making jokes.” That fact seemed to reassure Fred more than George and Madam Pomfrey reappeared, a bandage in one hand and two vials of something in the other. She handed the vials to Fred.

“Hold on to that, alright dear.” She gestured for George to remove the rag from his face and then proceeded to place the nose brace onto his face. George grimaced as she put the brace into place, but the pain wasn't nearly as bad now that it wasn't broken anymore. Once she was satisfied with the brace she gestured toward the vials Fred was holding. “That potion will help the your nose heal faster and the cream will help with the bruising. Take the potion tonight and you should be able to take the brace off tomorrow. That’s when you can start using the cream.” She explained and George nodded his head in understanding. 

Once his nose had stopped bleeding he and Fred made there way back to the Gryffindor dormitory. Lee had been waiting for them in the common room, his eyes widening when he saw Georges face, and after some explanation he was instantly on board for getting revenge. They discussed possible methods of getting back at the Slytherin boy, Fred leading the conversation, and soon enough they were calling it a night. 

George took his potion, making a face at the bitter taste, and made himself comfortable. He was almost asleep, his eyelids heavy, when Fred's voice drifted into his ears. 

“George?”His eyes fluttered open, and he squinted into the darkness towards Fred's bed.

“Hmm?” It was quiet for a minute, and then Fred spoke again.

“The next time you get into a fight,” Fred whispered, his voice stern. “do it when I’m with you.” George replied, just as quietly.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Good night, Georgie.”

“Night Freddie.”

The next morning during breakfast a sudden shout had erupted from the Slytherin table. Malcolm was standing from his spot at the table, his breakfast plastered to his front and his head drenched in what seemed to be his drink.

Meanwhile at the Gryffindor Fred, George, and Lee were laughing into their meals.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
